Courage
by Author95
Summary: Frances Edwards, a sixth year Gryffindor is starting to develop feelings for Draco Malfoy. She has always felt a degree of fear towards him and he is scared of the challenge ahead of him but Frances wants to teach him that courage is about facing your fears and admitting your weaknesses. However, this is not easy when they are on opposite sites of the approaching war.
1. Chapter One

**Author's Note: I started a fanfiction a couple of years ago called 'Birds of Different Feathers' but was unable to finish it. So, I decided to write a similar but new one using some scenes and inspiration from my original. I have written the first few chapters already and have planned out the rest but will of course take into account any critique to improve the story. I am going to try to update fairly regularly. Obviously, only Frances is mine, the rest belongs to J.K. Rowling. **

**Chapter One**

Every story needs a beginning but where to start with Frances Edwards? We could start from the day she first met Draco Malfoy on her first day at Hogwarts; when the arrogant silver-haired boy pushed past her on the Hogwarts Express and looked down his nose at her. We could go back further and start from the morning she received her Hogwarts letter, the day she also found out for the first time that she was a witch and would be swapping her secondary education for schooling in the art of magic. Alternatively, we could start it from the night that You-Know-Who returned and threatened the whole Wizarding World, sparking all the Death Eaters into action.

However, we are going to start her story from the beginning of her sixth year.

...

Frances woke up in the Gryffindor girls' dormitory at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She reached out for her glasses on the bedside cabinet and tied back her tangled brown hair. This was her sixth year at the school as a student of magic. Having been born into a muggle family, Frances awoke feeling comfortably at home in her four poster bed. Only at Hogwarts did she feel she was where she belonged. Frances loved her family, of course she did, but it was a constant struggle to get them to understand her life in the wizarding world; at Hogwarts she did not have to pretend to fit in somewhere that she didn't or explain herself to people who would never be able to comprehend her answers.

Noticing that the rest of the girls in the dormitory were still asleep, Frances took the opportunity to get up and make first use of the bathroom; she was not often the first one up.

Although not a messy person, Frances had the tendency to leave tedious tasks to the last minute and it is for that reason that she had failed to unpack her trunk the night before when they had all arrived at the castle for the start of the year. Therefore, it was whilst hunting for her school uniform, which had been placed very unhelpfully at the bottom of the trunk that Hermione began to stir in her bed.

"Sorry!" Frances whispered across the room in her roommates' direction as she gathered her clothes in a heap in her arms and quickly left the room in the direction of the girls' bathroom. Sure, it was time to get up but she doubted the rest of the girls with whom she shared a dormitory would thank her for waking them up after their late night catching up with one another after the annual feast.

By half past seven Frances was washed and dressed and making her way down to the Common Room.

"Everyone else must have spent most of last night up chatting," Frances thought to herself as she entered the Common Room to find only Harry Potter and Ron Weasley sitting on the comfy chairs by the fire.

"Morning Fran," Harry and Ron greeted her and invited her to sit with them.

"Where's Hermione?" Ron complained, "I'm hungry and don't want to be the last one at breakfast. All the sausages will be gone!"

"She was just waking up when I left the dorm to use the bathroom," Frances replied, "I'm sure she won't be much longer."

Ron groaned and threw his head back on the pillow behind his head. "I can't wait much longer."

"I know," said Harry, "why don't you two go on ahead and save us a seat at the Gryffindor table, I'll stay back and wait for Hermione and Ginny."

Ron jumped at this idea and Frances agreed. They both got up and walked towards the portrait.

"I think Harry likes Ginny," Frances said to Ron in a hushed tone.

"Of course he does Fran, they've known each other for a long time," Ron replied as they clambered through the portrait hole.

"No, Ron, I mean he _likes_ her," she continued, "why else would he say that he'd wait for her as well as Hermione? She would otherwise go with the other fifth years."

"Nah," Ron looked at her before shaking his head as they reached the entrance to the Great Hall. "I don't think so Fran, you're reading too much into it." Ron suddenly clasped eyes on what would become his breakfast and started to fill his plate.

Soon enough Harry, Hermione and Ginny joined them. In the light of the Great Hall, Harry's bruise from his bloodied nose the evening before was visible.

"How's your nose, Harry?" Ginny asked, causing everyone to look up and inspect it for themselves. Harry just shrugged as though it was nothing. Frances supposed that after being through what Harry had been through, one broken nose was little more than a scratch.

"I can't believe Malfoy would do that," Frances said as she too took a closer look at her friend's nose.

"What's not to believe, it's Malfoy," Ginny answered.

"He's absolute scum," Ron added, backing his sister up.

"Speak of the devil," Hermione uttered just as Draco Malfoy himself walked past the Gryffindor table on his way to the Slytherin one.

"What happened to your nose, Potter?" screeched the voice of Pansy Parkinson who was accompanying Malfoy.

"Yeah, Potter, you ought to be more careful, walking in to things without your glasses on," Malfoy sneered.

"You know full well what happened, Parkinson," Harry said looking straight at Pansy Parkinson who stood next to Malfoy with a big grin on her face. "And you Malfoy, I know you were up to something in Knockt-..."

"Oh shut up, Potter!" Malfoy interjected. Suddenly Frances could feel his eyes on her. She had been looking at Harry and now didn't dare to turn around for fear of discovering Malfoy looking down at her. The two of them had never got on. It wasn't just because he was a Pureblood and she was a 'Mudblood' in his eyes. In that moment, she wanted nothing better than to look him in the eyes and tell him to stop looking at her and go away but she feared him slightly. Nevertheless, Frances was a Gryffindor, so she found the courage to at least turn and return the eye contact through her glasses. His mouth turned upwards slightly at the corners and his grey eyes squinted slightly. He stayed like that for a few seconds before tilting his head up in the air and striding away with Pansy Parkinson scurrying at his heels.

"I know he's up to something," Harry breathed angrily so that Ron and Hermione could hear him, "What we saw in Knockturn Alley, he's one of them..."

"Sshh!" Frances heard Hermione telling the boys to be quiet, "not here okay, people will overhear us." Frances was intrigued and would have pressed the trio on the matter if Professor McGonagall had not appeared with their timetables for the term.

"Miss Edwards," the transfiguration teacher said as she handed Frances her timetable, "I was glad to see that you performed so well in your OWLs, particularly your O in transfiguration." Frances was a bright student and had obtained Os and Es in all of her subjects, meaning that she was behind Hermione but a close second to her in all her classes. She was to be carrying on with Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts and Arithmancy this year. Unfortunately, Hermione was also taking these classes so she would remain in second place at best at NEWT level also. Although Frances admired Hermione, she had ambitions of her own to beat her when she could. So far, Frances had not succeeded.

As the rest of the Gryffindors were handed their own plans for the term, Frances began to make her way towards transfiguration. With the hustle and bustle of the first day, she decided that she would meet Harry, Ron and Hermione there rather than attempt to wait for them.

Professor McGonagall was not there when Frances reached the classroom of course because she had to finish distributing the timetables to all the Gryffindors. However, a number of other students were early. Frances took a seat at a desk about half way back from McGonagall's desk; two Hufflepuffs sat at a desk in the front row whilst one Ravenclaw sat three desks to her left. She wasn't sure how many people would be taking this class this year but she hoped it would be more than that.

Suddenly she regretted what she had wished for as a group of noisy students entered the room, Draco Malfoy leading them, striding across the threshold. He was followed by Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. He threw his satchel across the room so that it landed perfectly on the middle of a desk towards the back of the room. Frances knew that he had noticed her but he paid little attention to her. Instead, he sat down next to Zabini and began to engage in a conversation.

"Where's the rest of the Gryffindor lion pack?" Zabini called across the classroom at Frances who looked up from the parchment she had taken out of her bag. Draco Malfoy didn't say anything but smirked at his friend.

"Shut up!" Frances thought in her head but didn't dare say out loud with only two Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw to back her up. Luckily, Draco Malfoy regained Zabini's attention and Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the classroom. Harry and Ron took the desk to Frances' right and Hermione leant forward on their desk still deep in conversation. Frances turned her body so that she could listen in but Professor McGonagall had just arrived and was walking up the middle of the room. She stopped at her desk and began to address the class. Hermione quickly jumped into the seat next to Frances.

"This won't do," Professor McGonagall declared. "We're going to be small in number this year; that is the nature of a NEWT class. Therefore, I want you to move towards the front of the class so that you can actually hear me." As she said this she looked specifically at the Slytherins who were gathered at the back. Looking around the classroom, Frances counted four Gryffindors including herself, four Slytherins, two Hufflepuffs and one Ravenclaw, twelve students in total.

Nobody moved. The Slytherins would not move closer towards the other houses, the Ravenclaw was too self conscious to be the first to shift her things and the Gryffindors were too stubborn to go before the Slytherins.

"Fine!" McGonagall said sternly, "I'll decide where you sit." This invited a groan from the pupils. The Gryffindors hoped she would be kind to them but they were disappointed. She placed Blaise Zabini next to the Ravenclaw, Harry was paired with Theodore Nott, Ron had the particular misfortune of being sat next to Pansy Parkinson, the two Hufflepuffs were allowed to remain together as a reward for sitting in the front row in the first place and Frances was made to take a chair next to Draco Malfoy.

She moved her things quickly whilst he took his own sweet time to saunter over to the desk McGonagall had assigned them. He thumped his satchel down before slumping into his chair. He didn't even look at her.

Professor McGonagall led the first part of the lesson, dictating notes and giving practical demonstrations to the class. However, the second half of the lesson was to be spent practicing what they had been taught and whilst this was a task to be performed alone, it would of course lead to private discussions taking place as they did so.

Draco Malfoy and Frances didn't say a word to each other for the first ten minutes. They had no need to. Instead they just focused on their own spells and getting it right. Eventually Frances broke the silence.

"Why were you looking at me this morning?" she demanded of him, plucking up the courage to speak to the Slytherin. It was not aggressive or accusing, it was just a simple question, in her mind at least.

"What?" he replied, frowning slightly.

"This morning at the Gryffindor table, I felt you looking at me."

Draco Malfoy let out a laugh. "Felt? What does that mean?"

"You know what I mean, I knew you were looking at me."

"I was not." He denied it flatly but not passionately.

"Yes you were," she quietly persisted. She was treading carefully.

"Why would I be looking at you, Edwards? Barely noticed you to be honest." His face betrayed him though. She just looked at him. "Who would want to be looking at you? Dirty mudblood, you wish," his voice had turned sinister.

"No need to be so _rude_ to me!" she cried, "I knew you were looking, in fact I might even say staring. If you're not going to say why then fine, but I know you were."

"Miss Edwards, Mr Malfoy, what's going on?" Professor McGonagall gazed over towards their desk, "that does not sound like the spell you are supposed to be perfecting."

Frances muttered a sorry under her breath. Draco Malfoy picked up his wand and fiddled with it in his hand.

"Shut up, you bitch," Draco cursed at her, adding a number of other expletives. Frances was too polite to return such vulgar language.

"Do you always have to be so coarse?" she questioned him but did not allow him to answer. "I might have muggles for parents, but rather that than your parents!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Miss Edwards and Mr Malfoy, if you carry on talking I will have to put you both in detention," McGonagall threatened.

Frances and Draco lowered their voices but continued their argument.

"Go on," Draco insisted, "what was that comment supposed to mean?" Frances knew she was going too far in insulting his parents.

"This is not about your parents, Malfoy, it's about why you were staring at me," she said, cleverly changing the subject.

"I don't have to answer to you," he replied. "I know you're desperate, even Granger's had a boyfriend but I don't remember you ever having one." It was true; Frances had not attracted much attention from the male population of the school. She has symmetrical features, a small mouth and high cheek bones but she appeared very ordinary.

"I am not desperate," she hissed, feeling emotionally stung by this reminder. "I would rather die alone than be with you."

"Oh be quiet, you filthy mudblood. And it's a good thing too that you've already considered dying a spinster because I don't think even Weasley would fancy you."

"Malfoy, have I ever told you how much I _resent_ you," Frances cried. They hadn't realised it but their voices had been growing increasingly louder.

"That's it!" Professor McGonagall interjected, "Miss Edwards and Mr Malfoy, I will see you in detention on Saturday evening. I warned you. And I expected more from one of my best students, Miss Edwards." The whole class had turned to look at them. Frances felt ashamed to have let her teacher and head of house down. Draco Malfoy just felt annoyed that he'd have to spend his Saturday night in detention.

...

"What happened in there, Fran?" Hermione demanded of Frances once they had left transfiguration. She shrugged her shoulders because she honestly didn't know how to answer her.

"You got detention for talking to Malfoy," Ron said stating the obvious, "since when do you two talk during class at all?"

"It was more of an argument than a conversation actually Ron," she corrected him.

"Well whatever it was bad luck Fran. Our first Saturday night at Hogwarts and you're going to have to spend it in detention," Harry added. She pulled a face to signify that she was not looking forward to it.

...

That afternoon Frances had Arithmancy. Unfortunately, Draco Malfoy also took that class. They had managed to avoid one another throughout the entirety of the lesson. It was whilst she was packing up that she was forced to come into contact with him. As he was walking past her desk, his satchel bumped against it and knocked her quills on to the floor. He smirked when he realised he had caused her trouble and she expected him to carry on by however he stopped and leaned back against one of the desks, watching her as she got onto the floor to gather her things. She looked up at him and glared.

"You're doing it again," she said, "looking at me." She said it accusingly.

"Oh, hell, not this again," he groaned.

"Well go on, you never said earlier why you did it. You made it very clear that it's not because you fancy me, so why?" she asked.

"Honestly?" He sighed, "I was looking at you because I was wondering what you were doing with Potter and the rest of them."

Frances looked puzzled. "What do you mean? They're my friends."

"Really?" he asked, "doesn't seem like it to me. They're the 'golden trio' or whatever. Since when did they include you in all their schemes?"

Frances stopped to think. After a few seconds she gave her reply: "What do you know about friends, Malfoy? All of your so-called 'friends' follow you around helplessly but you hardly seem to have a close relationship with any of them. And anyway, how would you have any idea what my friendship with Harry, Ron and Hermione is like? Have you been watching us of something?"

"So you don't deny it then, that you're not part of Potter's 'secret gang'? And no, I have not been watching you; it's obvious to everyone that you're just a hanger-on." Draco Malfoy retorted.

Frances thought back to transfiguration when the three of them had been deep in a conversation that she had been excluded from. She also thought back to breakfast when Hermione had been keen to keep a secret, even from her. She even remembered the fact that they had all spent a majority of the summer holidays at the Weasleys' house together whilst she'd been with her family. She daren't think back any further. It was true that she wasn't part of the 'golden trio' as Malfoy had termed it, but it had taken him to point it out to her that she was just another one of their fellow pupils. Certainly, she had a good relationship with Hermione as they both did well in class and had similar attitudes towards school work and she got on with the boys well as she did with most people but she was far from having the same relationship with them that they had with each other.

"Shut up, Malfoy," she said to him as she had nothing else to say but knew he was kind of right.

He shrugged his shoulders and replied, "I'm right though." He looked smug as he said it. By now Frances had collected all of her things from the floor and had packed them into her bag. Feeling embarrassed, she pushed past him and left the classroom. She picked up the pace as she walked down the corridor, worried that he might follow her but he didn't. Once she'd slowed down she wondered why she ever thought he would.

...

Between the first day of term and Saturday's detention, Frances tried very hard to ignore Draco Malfoy. She was not only embarrassed by what he'd said at the end of Arithmancy but she was also not in the mood for further arguing. Every time she caught a glimpse of him she thought about what he had said. She refused to admit that it was entirely true and whenever she was around Harry, Ron and Hermione, she attempted to prove to herself that they were friends. However, most of the time she realised they talked about trivial things like Quidditch or class. It was only regarding 'girl's' topics that Hermione ventured to talk to her about something deeper.

During Transfiguration, Frances was still forced to sit next to him so she could not avoid him. However, the harder she tried to ignore him, the harder it got. Draco sensed this and used it to his advantage. He called her names because he knew that it hurt. He had been right about her relationship with her friends and he felt her becoming self-conscious and doubtful about herself, which then made her more susceptible to his taunts. She still feared him but fear was turning into hatred. Frances didn't really hate anyone but this was the closest she had ever been to doing so and hence she believed she hated him.

It was after potions on Friday afternoon that Frances had to encounter Draco Malfoy again.

"Is this yours?" a dreadfully smug sounding voice said. He strolled over to her, clasping her advanced book of potions in his right hand and smiling self-righteously. His sleek blonde hair swished to the side as he continued to walk. She has dropped her book on the way out of class. The corridor was empty apart from the two of them.

"Yes," she replied bluntly, trying snatching the book from him, but he was too tall for her.

"Manners, Edwards," Draco Malfoy countered, "Or didn't those dirty muggle parents of yours teach you any?" She had discovered that he was in a particularly foul mood today.

"Leave them out of this," she stared him down until he handed over the book reluctantly. She muttered a quick word of thanks.

"You know what, Edwards?" he began, knowing that this confrontation was bothering her.

"What?" she replied, regretting it straight away, knowing that what was coming next was not going to be something she would enjoy listening to.

"I don't see why Potter and the rest of them don't want you in their 'gang'."

"Are you being sarcastic, Malfoy?" she answered him, "Just go away."

"Well, now I see why, only trying to have a conversation with you."

"Whatever," she spat out and walked past him put he caught her arm on the way passed and stopped her in her tracks. He did hold her tightly but she was too anxious to pull away quickly.

"Let go of me, Malfoy," she warned him. He smiled thoughtfully, wondering what she would do if else. Decidedly, he began to take the risk. He held on to her and drew nearer. He was about six inches taller than her but in that moment she felt as though she was much smaller than him as he got closer. She looked up at him over the rim of her glasses and she tightened her thin lips together. When, for a split second, his body touched hers, she felt a rushing feeling in her head.

_"No, I mustn't like this, it's Draco Malfoy, for goodness sake",_ she told herself and brought herself back to reality.

She pulled away suddenly, escaping his clutches. He smiled with the edges of his lips as she turned her back on him and carried on round the corner until he was out of view. As she headed towards the Gryffindor Common Room, she realised that she didn't even hate Draco Malfoy. She found him infuriating, arrogant, egotistical and damn right rude but what she felt was not hate.


	2. Chapter Two

**Author's Note: This chapter is shorter than the previous one. They are probably going to be of varying lengths depending on the chapter and the events in them. Thank you so much to the people following this story, I hope you all enjoy this next installment. **

**Chapter Two**

It was seven o'clock and Frances was sat in the Gryffindor Common Room on Saturday night. Her detention with Professor McGonagall was going to start in half an hour and she was just beginning to get her things together to head over to her classroom.

"Alright then," she said to some of the other Gryffindors she had been sitting with, "I better go."

"Good luck," Hermione said to her.

"You'll need it with Malfoy," Ginny added.

"I don't know," Lavender Brown chipped in, "I wouldn't mind..."

"Lavender!" cried Hermione as the three girls looked at her, "You're not really saying you fancy Malfoy?" Lavender looked coy. Hermione and Ginny rolled their eyes in disbelief.

"Would you rather go instead of me then?" Frances asked Lavender.

"Oh no! Detention on a Saturday night, I don't think so." Frances thought as much. She grabbed her back with her quills and parchment in just in case McGonagall had prepared lines for them to write.

As she made her way to the classroom, Frances wondered what sort of mood Draco Malfoy would be in. He was never in what would be described as a good mood but she was unsure how bad a mood he would be in on a Saturday evening detention.

"Just on time, Miss Edwards," Professor McGonagall noted as Frances slipped in the door. She was laying out boxes of goblets at a desk at the front of the room, incidentally the one that she and Draco shared during class.

"Late, Mr Malfoy." It was seven thirty-one. He didn't seem to care though. He nodded at Frances who unconsciously nodded back.

"As you can see, I have about one hundred goblets here. I'd like them polished, please. You will leave once they are done." This was an invitation for them to sit down and get on with the task. Frances sat down immediately but, as usual, Draco did everything in his own time. She began almost immediately, picking one of two cloths that had been laid next to the boxes. Malfoy showed less sign of movement but eventually he started on his share of the work.

"Why are there so many?" Malfoy groaned as he was rubbing vigorously at the bottom of a goblet he had just picked up.

"Because, Mr Malfoy," Professor McGonagall answered him, "I have a lot of students and not all of them are able to perform the transfiguration of a goblet into a bottle and therefore I need many spares." Draco nodded in acknowledgement of her answer.

"What am I, a muggle?" he uttered under his breath so that his teacher could not make out his words but Frances could hear perfectly.

"I'll have you know that muggles are a lot more intelligent than you Purebloods make them out to be," she snapped in reply, feeling very defensive about her roots. Malfoy grunted in reply.

"Is that so?" he asked.

"Yeah, actually, I know that you might not be able to believe it, but they are. I mean, I'd like to see you grab your whole family's collection of records and put them into a device the size of a matchbox," she said in justification of her point.

"No talking, please," Professor McGonagall said to them both before walking to the back of the classroom to find something in a cupboard.

"They can do that?" he asked, again quiet enough for only the two of them to hear.

"Yeah, they're called I-pods."

Frances was sure she saw a look of impression in his eyes for a second but he quickly covered it up with indifference.

Fifteen minutes of silence passed by. They got through fifteen cauldrons between them in that time, no communication needed whatsoever. McGonagall was on the other side of the classroom, marking homework. The clock behind her desk ticked away loudly.

"Do you ever get sick of being, good?" Draco whispered to Frances.

"What?" she asked puzzled.

"You've been working away at those goblets like crazy," he replied.

"I'm just trying to get them finished," she said, justifying her speedy work, "You know, so that we can actually get out of here."

"No, you just want to impress McGonagall," he insisted, "You've started the year in her bad books and now you're being all goody two shoes and trying to make it up to her. Please, Edwards, I know you're a Gryffindor but you're so predictable."

"Since when do you know me better than myself, Malfoy?" Frances asked in response, "You know nothing. And you can hardly talk; you suck up to Snape all the time and half the other teachers in this school."

Malfoy swore at her and directed some other cruel words and phrases at her. She just ignored them. Frances noted, however, that he looked uncomfortable as he hurled insults about her blood status at her for the next ten minutes. He was still his mean, callous self but the way he commented on her being muggle born seemed odd, as though he was going further out of his way than usual to mention it.

Another fifteen minutes passed by. At the sound of a squeaking chair, McGonagall stood up and strode towards the open doorway. Draco dragged his head up from the desk slowly and, scanning the room slowly like a hawk, he threw down the cloth he was using and bounded up from his seat.

"Cover for me will you?" he demanded of her with a smirk as he followed out the same way that McGonagall had. She looked at him in amazement.

"Where are you going?" she called as he turned the corner.

"I said; where are you going?" she shouted, louder this time. But, realising it was useless trying to receive a response from him, she threw down her own cloth in annoyance at his unpredictably mysterious behaviour.

Half an hour passed and Frances continued polishing the goblets with diligence. She knew she would never complete them all without Malfoy to help her but she decided to give it a good shot. She had always been one of Professor McGonagall's best students and she didn't want to let her down for a second time this week.

At nine o'clock, McGonagall returned to the classroom.

"Where is Mr Malfoy?" she asked Frances.

"He-he fell ill. He...erm...had to go to the hospital wing," The lies slipped off of her tongue. Professor McGonagall looked at her sceptically, undoubtedly trying to decide whether she believed her lie.

"Well, I guess this means you can go too," she uttered finally after a moment's thought. Frances grabbed her bag and made a dash for the door.

...

"You're back early Fran," Harry remarked as she scrambled through the portrait hole and sat down in the first available chair. Harry, Ron and Hermione had been sitting together around the fire; probably discussing something secret that she wasn't allowed to know, Frances thought to herself before knocking such thoughts out of her head because it was admitting that Malfoy was right.

"Yeah," she replied.

"Well, how was it? A whole hour and a half with Malfoy must have felt like a lot longer," Hermione asked.

"It was alright," Frances said, shrugging, "Yeah, tell me about it." She had decided not to tell them anything about Malfoy leaving early. If they were going to have their secrets, then she could have her own. Deep down she knew that this would only lead to a worsening relationship with her fellow Gryffindors but another part of her wanted to prove that if what Malfoy had said was true, or at least nearly true, then she could cope on her own. Also, she knew how they would react and she was scared of that. She didn't know why she had allowed him to get away with it and that was something she would have to figure out for herself.

...

Draco was lying awake in his bed. It was midnight. He couldn't sleep. He had spent all evening looking for the vanishing cabinet in the room of requirement. At first he had found it difficult to enter the room, which he thought was weird because he had believed he knew what he was looking for. Now he doubted that and not just in terms of the vanishing cabinet.

He had been set a task and Draco Malfoy was determined not to fail his family. He wanted to make his parents proud and so he had chosen to start straight away but already he was sensing that it was going to be far more difficult that he had ever anticipated. But still, he couldn't fail, he thought to himself and being stuck in detention at the weekends was not going to help matters.

Thinking about detention made his mind wander to thinking about Frances Edwards. He had never had much to do with her in previous years. She was not one of Potter's closest friends so he had not experienced the same confrontational relationship with her as he had with Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley.

"Still, she's a Mudblood," he thought to himself. "It shouldn't matter whose friend she is or what she's done, the fact she was born was enough." However, Draco didn't know how much he believed in all of this. He was still proud and felt himself to be superior, he knew that. Yet, since he'd had the Dark Mark ingrained into his arm, everything had got so much more serious. He couldn't just purely hate her for being muggle born any longer because now he was expected to torture and kill people like her. That was why during detention he had made an effort to insult her; he wanted to prove to himself that saying the word 'Mudblood' still felt the same to him. Draco didn't like her, no he still hated her for being a Gryffindor and for hanging around with people like Harry Potter but suddenly he was feeling uncomfortable with the prospect of having to be a murderer and that meant that Frances Edwards bothered him.

**Author's Note: I'm not going to have access to a computer for about a week but I have already written most of chapter three so will edit it and post it as soon as possible. **


	3. Chapter Three

**Author's Note: Luckily, I've been able to get it edited sooner than I thought I would. Thank you to everyone reading this, it is good to know that some people are reading and following this as it makes a big difference. Any reviews would be much appreciated as I would love to know your thoughts and any improvements I could make. Well...enjoy!**

**Chapter Three**

Frances was sat in the library on Sunday afternoon, catching up on the first week's homework and going over some incantations that interested her. Her brown hair hung down around her face and over the edges of her piece of parchment, shielding most of her face from view. It was long but plain and she often wished she had the ability to do something with it but on the few occasions that she had tried to style it, it had never come out the way she had hoped and hence she tended to leave it at as it was most of the time. She had left the rest of the Gryffindors behind in the Common Room. Most of the girls were about to head out into the grounds to soak up some of the late September sun whilst Harry, Ron and Hermione had been sat together discussing a plan of some sort. Frances had decided that she needed a bit of peace and quiet.

Unfortunately, she would not to be able to enjoy the tranquil surroundings of the library for long.

"Edwards," Malfoy said greeting her smugly. He strolled up to her table by the window and leaned his hands onto it.

"What is that you want?" Frances asked him coarsely, impatient for him to leave her alone. Draco Malfoy shrugged his shoulders and replied: "Fun, I guess."

"Fun? Since when did Draco Malfoy find it 'fun' to hang out with a Gryffindor like me?"

Draco laughed. "Don't be ridiculous Edwards. I'm not attempting to befriend you. I thought I had made that pretty clear over the past six years." Although, in reality, he thought to himself, he hadn't really had anything to do with her at all. "No, I'm here for my own fun, not yours."

"Well, I'm not here for you to poke fun at, no matter how superior it makes you feel," she threw back at him as she gathered up her bag and flung it over her shoulder. She felt silly for suggesting that he might want to spend time with her as she knew this was far from the wishes of the both. "Good-bye Malfoy." Without looking back, Frances walked away down the corridor towards the staircase. His footsteps echoed throughout the hallway as she realised he was following her.

"Would you just leave me alone? You've already spoilt my afternoon peace so well done, congratulations, you have succeeded in annoying the heck out of me" she said through her teeth before taking off down the staircase. She wasn't feeling scared of Malfoy today. She had spent too much time with him and his frustrating personality over the past few days to be anything but infuriated by him. He followed after her down the stairs.

"What is it with you?" she cried, "Can't you take a hint? Go...away!" She couldn't remember the last time she had been this angry and she didn't know why she was becoming so irate about Malfoy teasing her as he would always do to any Gryffindor whenever he got the chance.

"Maybe I don't want to."

"Well, I think you should," she was getting desperate now and running out of comebacks. She was realising that their argument was being witnessed by other students passing by but nervousness still ceased to kick in. "What do you want with me anyway? You're a Slytherin and a pompous Pureblood who cares for nobody but himself."

"And you wonder why we don't like you," he replied.

Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks and whirled round to face Draco Malfoy who had been following closely behind. "Look, what was last night about?" Looking up into Draco's resentful eyes, Frances saw that he was not smirking at this. In fact, he looked solemn and troubled all of a sudden.

"What's it to you?" he replied harshly, his eyes narrowing and now avoiding her gaze. "Maybe I had business to attend to." He was trying to cover it up with a bit of Slytherin mystery and charm. Frances, however, was not susceptible to this.

"Well, for one, I covered for you," she almost shouted in reply. Many of the other students looked over towards them, puzzled as to why they would choose each others' company. She looked down, trying to deflect attention away from them having become aware of the volume of their voices. Malfoy displayed a less than polite gesture to a group of third year Hufflepuffs who had been staring.

"You did?" he asked surprised, although smug nonetheless. His eyebrows rose suddenly and he stared at Frances more intensely as though he was trying to figure something out.

"Yeah," she whispered in response, embarrassed.

"Oh, well good," he said arrogantly. Frances furrowed her brow at him before realising that this _was_ Malfoy she was dealing with.

"So, I have a right to know," she pursued.

"I don't think so, Edwards, too much for your stupid little Mudblood brain anyway." At this he brushed past her and started off down the corridor.

"Come back," she called. He glanced back over his shoulder and gave her a look which wrote 'no way.'

"Malfoy," she hissed, picking up the pace. She didn't want to run after him and cause a greater scene that had already been made. By this time, he had managed to mingle amongst a wave of students all making their way to the Great Hall for dinner. Nevertheless, he was one of the tallest and so Frances was able to spot his tall blonde head above the crowd. He had just turned a bend when she was able to catch up with him, having ducked and dived her way through the streams of students.

"Malfoy, I _deserve_ to know!" She was not walking alongside him, almost running to keep up with his fast pace.

"No, you don't, can't you just leave it already?" This time he was angry.

"Maybe I'll just go and tell Professor McGonagall that you weren't ill and you just skipped. How would you feel then?" She could feel antagonism welling in the pit of her stomach.

"You told her I was ill?" Malfoy asked, "Ha, now that's lame. Can't say I'm surprised though; Gryffindors may have the brawn, but when it comes to brains I guess you got the short end of the stick." He knew this wasn't true; in fact, he resented the fact that a muggle born could be as clever as him and, in some subjects, even more so. He trumped her in potions though so that made him feel a bit better.

"You should be pleased that I said something," she replied in outrage, "But I'll go and tell her I lied. I'm not scared of that."

"Is that blackmail, Edwards? That's low for you," he leered.

"Maybe...it is," she threatened. She wasn't comfortable with how this argument had progressed but she was too curious to not press him for answers.

"Bloody hell!" he cursed out loud, "I don't need this."

"What are you hiding?" she asked quietly. It wasn't an accusation really.

"Why do you even care about me?" he hissed, stepping close to her and cutting off the light that had illuminated the corridor. Like her, he had lowered his voice and his levels of anger. "Like you said yourself, you're a Gryffindor, I'm a Slytherin; we're different."

"Not so different," she spoke softly, just loud enough for the sound to float into his ears. She didn't know why she had said that, but all she knew was that it felt true. In the distance the sound of rain could be heard and the whistle of the wind was growing more strongly.

"Why are you so strange?" he asked.

"Me? Strange?" she fired up again slightly, "What about you? You disappear and refuse to tell anyone what you're doing, you harass people you barely even know in the corridor and follow them to the library for God's sake!"

"Well, if you want me to go away that much then why you don't just leave me alone beats me!"

"You were the one following me about ten minutes ago! But fine, I don't even care anymore, just leave me alone!"

"Fine with me, I wouldn't want to spend any more time with you anyway."

...

In the Slytherin Common Room, later that evening, Draco thought back over the confrontation he had had with Frances. In particular, he couldn't stop thinking about what she'd said about them not being so different. _Of course they are different_, Draco tried to reassure himself but he hadn't convinced himself.

"What's wrong, Draco?" asked Blaise Zabini who had just entered the Common Room and was taking a seat opposite Draco Malfoy. Draco shrugged in reply before picking up an evening copy of the Daily Prophet.

_'Family of Four Muggles Killed, Suspected Death Eater Involvement_," read the headline news story. Draco felt a jolting feeling in his stomach as he read it. He couldn't bring himself to read the entire story.

"Draco? Is it true?" Zabini began.

"Is what true?" he replied roughly.

"That you're one of them now?"

"Since when was that your business?"

"Sorry... just thought we might be friends, you know?"

"Well, maybe I am. But I don't think the Dark Lord would be pleased to find out about your curiosity would he? I don't think he _does_ _friends_," Draco replied and slammed the newspaper down. He knew he was pushing one of his only friends away but he couldn't help himself. Ever since he had taken the mark on his arm, he had doubted everything. An ordinary person might try to open up and confide in a friend but Draco knew that he was not ordinary and that this was not a situation that anyone could empathise with.

He thundered up the stairs and entered his dormitory. Luckily for him there was no one else there. He threw himself onto his bed and lay with his face into his pillow. _Damn, Edwards_, he thought to himself, _she's making me doubt myself_. Truth was though that Frances had not caused Draco to feel this new sense of uncertainty about his beliefs and his mission; she had only highlighted it to him.

...

Frances and Draco had very little contact with one another over the next few weeks except for when it was absolutely necessary. They left each other alone as much as possible but they did not stop wondering about one another. Draco watched her when she was not looking, trying to figure her out and, more importantly, asking himself why he was drawn to her. Frances, meanwhile, was noticing the change that had happened in Draco over the summer. Whereas Harry, Ron and Hermione had been discussing his involvement with Voldemort, France was becoming aware that Draco was not as proud as usual, but was keeping himself to himself more often.

The next time they had a proper encounter was during the middle of October. It was a Wednesday evening and Draco was on prefect patrol. He wanted to throw in the towel and give up his duties but he knew that would look suspicious. It also gave him an excuse to be out of bed after curfew and therefore he was able to make more trips to the Room of Requirement to work on his mission. This evening, however, he was actually performing his prefect role correctly, wandering the corridors, looking for any students. He was just walking past the owlery when his wand light shone onto a pair of trainers. He lifted his wand to uncover the student's face to find that it was Frances Edwards. She squinted and covered her eyes as he was shining the light into her face. He dropped the light.

"Eurgh, it's you, Edwards," Malfoy said greeting her, "now where might you be off to at eleven twenty?" He always relished getting Gryffindors in trouble, "Think I might have to drop some points."

"I don't care, Malfoy," she replied, hoping that she could get passed him quickly.

"Seriously, where are you off to?" he asked again.

"The owlery, I have to send a letter."

"At nearly half eleven?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Yes, I forgot to post it earlier and it must get there by tomorrow morning."

"Well, what is it that can't possibly wait?"

"I don't have to tell you that, Malfoy."

"You do if you want to get in there." His back was to the door and he was obviously shielding it so that she couldn't pass without his permission. It was the power of the situation which gave him great joy.

"Just a payment of subscription to a magazine, nothing you would be interested in," she eventually gave in and replied.

"Well, why can't you just use your own owl?" he asked, wanting to continue the conversation. He had been patrolling the corridors alone as he didn't fancy spending the entire evening with any of the other prefects, even Pansy Parkinson who did his head in.

"Because," she breathed out loudly, "I don't have one."

"You mean your stupid muggle parents wouldn't let you have one. Or maybe they're just too poor." Frances didn't say anything to this and even Draco realised that that had been a little uncalled for. He didn't apologise because Draco Malfoy never apologised but he stepped to one side to allow her to pass instead.

She began to climb the steps to the top of the tower and noticed that Draco was following her. He watched as she selected a bird and tied her envelope to its leg. She opened the window to let it out and turned around to see him standing only a few feet away from her. The moonlight was pouring in the window and reflecting onto his face. She could see all the different colour shades in his grey eyes and all the lines around his face. She saw that he was looking tired and they had only been back at school for six weeks. Frances sensed that something was very wrong but she was too frightened to bring it up in case she got involved in another row and he did decide to dock points from her house; despite saying she didn't care about him doing so, really she couldn't stand to lose. She also feared his temper whilst they were at the top of a tower all alone at nearly midnight.

Draco, meanwhile, was taking in her features. Her hazel eyes sparkled in the dim light. It was evening and it was dark so she had not worn her glasses. He thought she looked pretty like that, but soon regretted thinking that a Gryffindor, and a Muggle-born one at that, was anything less than downright ugly.

Still, he looked at her and said, "You're not wearing your glasses."

"I know," she almost whispered, "I left them in my room."

They stayed there for what felt like five minutes but was in fact only about forty seconds. Suddenly the stirring of one of the owls in its cage made them jump.

"You best be going now then, Edwards," Draco said to her, "Now, that you have sent your letter." Frances nodded and walked past him in the direction of the stairs. She looked back at him but could only just make out his outline from where he was standing. Hurrying down the spiral staircase, she opened the door at the bottom and left it open for him as she knew he would follow soon after.

Frances made it back to her Gryffindor dormitory without any further detection from either student prefect or teacher. As she snuggled down into her bed sheets and drifted off to sleep, she felt a sort of happiness arouse in her that she hadn't felt before. It was not elation or delight but rather contentment and ease.

...

It was now the third week in October. Frances and Draco had had less arguments although that is not to say that they didn't have any; Draco always took advantage of any chance to annoy her. However, the next time they met was a very different mood altogether.

It was nine in the evening and an hour away from the sixth years' curfew. Frances was taking a walk down an empty corridor alone when she came across a figure sitting in a window seat with his head in his hands.

"Malfoy?" she exclaimed as she got closer and realised who it was. It was nearly dark outside so their main light was the candles along the corridor. When he heard her voice he threw his head back quickly. She noticed he was holding a piece of parchment in his hands. He was looking down at the floor, refusing to look at her.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing at what was in his hand.

"None of your business," he snapped in reply. Frances decided she would need to tread carefully here. She took a seat next to him, so that there existed only a few feet between them. After five or six seconds had passed, he turned to her, looking confused.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

"Does it look it?" he said to her harshly, making her feel silly for having asked the question.

Frances noticed an envelope on the floor. She picked it up. It only had one word on it: Draco. _So it's a letter_, she thought to herself.

"Who's the letter from?" she asked him, holding the envelope out to him. He snatched it back quickly.

"I said, it's none of your business!"

"Is it from your family? Has something happened? Do you...?"

"Man, you're so quiet normally but once you get going, there's no stopping you, is there?" he interjected, "Look, there's nothing you can do. And if you breathe a word of seeing me like this, then you'll pay for it."

"I wasn't going to tell anyone," she insisted, "And, I know about family problems. My parents still find it hard to accept who I am."

He laughed gravely, "This is nothing like that, Edwards. Honestly, you couldn't even begin to understand the first thing about anything. Do you have a crazy aunt who kills people just for the hell of it? Didn't think so."

"No," she said quietly, "But I can imagine and I know I wouldn't like it one bit."

Frances then realised that she had moved closer to Draco and was close enough to reach out and put his hand on his shoulder. She felt tempted to do so but resisted.

"Edwards, you're wearing your glasses today," he said to her, changing the subject of the conversation.

"Yes, I need them to see," she retorted.

"But you didn't need them to see in the owlery last week," Draco Malfoy pointed out.

"No, but I told you, that was because it was the evening. I don't need them to see everything, just for concentration."

"So, you are concentrating now then?" he asked cheekily.

"Yes."

"But you weren't the other night?" he was teasing her and she catching onto it.

"Perhaps I was distracted anyhow," she said, playing on.

"Is that your attempt at flirting, Edwards?" he asked and she coloured with embarrassment.

"No!" she cried but in all honestly, it had been. It had been an unconscious effort. She didn't fancy Malfoy and she wouldn't flirt with him, she told herself.

"Well, bye Edwards. I have things to be doing. And, like I said, don't breathe a word to anyone about anything I've said, okay?"

She nodded in acknowledgement of this deal before returning to her own Common Room for the night. Looking at her watch, she realised she only had five minutes to get back or risk detention. Frances rarely broke curfew but this year looked to be very different in more ways than that.

**Author's Note: The next chapter definitely won't be up for over a week but once I have access to my computer again, I will try to update frequently to catch up on a bit of time. Hope you have enjoyed it so far.**


	4. Chapter Four

**Author's Note: Thank you to anybody out there who is reading this and has come this far with the story. I would love to know your thoughts on my OC Frances as I have tried to make her as realistic as possible but it's hard to judge when you're the one writing it. Is she too boring or too simple? This update is shorter than I was intending as I have decided to split it into two so that I can update what I have written already and then upload the rest in a few days. Hope you enjoy it... **

**Chapter Four**

"Have you heard?" Ron asked as he swung through the portrait and threw himself over and armchair, landing on the floor just in front of it. "The trip to Hogsmeade is going ahead!" Frances had been sitting with Hermione and Ginny, going over some homework with the former.

"That's great!" Ginny exclaimed whilst Hermione and Frances looked pleased. They had been kept in the castle for nearly two months now and although it wasn't short of extensive grounds, they all knew it would feel good to see some new sights and be outside of school for a few hours.

It was a Saturday morning and all the students permitted to go to Hogsmeade had spent the morning busily getting ready for the expectant trip although it wasn't until the prefects announced its go ahead that they could get truly excited about the prospect.

Frances decided that she would try and tag along with Harry, Ron and Hermione. She didn't fancy going alone and she knew Ginny would be with Dean Thomas whilst Lavender and Parvati Patel were too giggly and girly for her to want to spend long amounts of time with them. The trio didn't seem to mind her going with them, but then they never did seem to mind her being there; she could just always sense that they were holding things back to discuss later which made conversation quite mundane.

Nevertheless, by eleven they were sat in the Three Broomsticks at a table together drinking butter bears by the fire, talking about lessons, teachers, Quidditich and where else they wanted to visit that day. Frances kept quiet most of the time, allowing the others to dictate the course of the conversations.

"Frances," Harry abruptly said to her, "have you noticed anything weird about Malfoy recently?"

"Oh, not this, Harry," Ron moaned and Hermione pulled a face, suggesting that she wished Harry hadn't asked the question.

"No," Harry said to them, "let her answer, I want to know what she thinks."

"Erm, well, yes, a little bit actually," she replied although determined not to give anything away about their recent meetings; she had made a promise to him and whilst she knew he probably wouldn't do the same back, Frances never betrayed her word.

"See!" Harry exclaimed, "I'm right!"

"Fran, Harry thinks that Malfoy's up to something," Hermione began to exclaim.

"He thinks he's a Death Eater," Ron finished.

Frances frowned and shook her head, "No, he's only sixteen."

"Exactly!" Ron and Hermione cried together but Frances could see that Harry was convinced that he was correct.

Not long after, the four Gryffindors decided to leave the bar as it was getting very busy and therefore difficult for them to hear themselves think, let alone continue with any sort of conversation. After visiting a number of shops that interested them and running a few errands, Hermione suggested that they make their way back to the castle as it had been a cold day to begin with and was getting chillier by the minute. Summer was well and truly over.

As they approached the castle, they all heard the shrilling scream of a familiar voice, which caused them to run towards the sound.

"My God," Hermione cried, "It's Katie!"

To their horror, Katie was shrieking in terror as she was sent above the ground, wavering in mid air. A package lay on the ground below her and Leanne was on her knees sobbing at the disturbed sight of her friend. Before anybody could do anything, Hagrid's allaying voice echoed towards us, scooping up Katie limp body which had since fallen to the ground.

"Nobody touch anything!" Hagrid cried clearly and sternly. Harry backed away from the package that he had been about to examine, obeying Hagrid's words with respect. The four of them looked between each other, not quite sure what to make of the situation. Frances was able to remain relatively calm as they followed Hagrid. They knew that they would be called on to give statements about what they saw and already Harry was ranting about curses, dark magic and Draco Malfoy.

In fact, Harry didn't shut up about Draco Malfoy all the way to McGonagall's office. Ron and Hermione were arguing with him about it but Frances just listened and tried to make sense of what Harry was saying. She wanted to side with Ron and Hermione, but she had noticed a change in Draco and his reaction to the letter he had received the night before made her slow to pick a side. Eventually, she decided that it couldn't possibly have been Draco. Harry continued to insist that Malfoy was behind the cursed necklace but when their Transfiguration teacher had informed them that he had actually spent the day in detention, it quietened Harry down and reassured Frances that her eventual judgement was the correct one.

Once she was back in the Common Room that evening, she tried to put everything to do with the day out of her mind but that was going to be difficult as the other three continued to converse about Katie Bell's injury and the possible causes of it. Instead, she made her way to bed early and found that she fell asleep almost straight away.

...

Her early night meant that Frances was up early the next morning. She had awoken at six thirty and although she had lain in bed for another half an hour, attempting to fall back to sleep again, by seven she was up and getting dressed. So early was she up for a Sunday that nobody was in the Common Room yet. Breakfast wasn't going to be served until eight therefore Frances found herself on a stroll around the school grounds. She was just enjoying the fresh air when she stumbled upon Draco Malfoy sat under a tree alone. She realised that she had often seen him alone this year compared to other years when he had rarely been without Crabbe and Goyle.

"We have to stop meeting like this," Frances said approaching him.

"What?" he replied rudely.

"Never mind," she breathed, _just trying to have a civil conversation for once_, she thought to herself.

"Did you hear about what happened to Katie Bell?" she asked; everyone had been discussing it and it felt like a normal thing to ask. Then she remembered that Harry had implicated him in it and recognised that it probably wasn't one of the best conversation starters. Not that she believed Harry.

"Yeah," he grunted.

"I heard they're taking her to St Mungo's today," she continued.

"Oh, are they?"

"Are you okay?"

"Why do you always ask stupid questions?"

"Sorry," she said as she sat down beside him. He looked confused and uncomfortable but quickly accepted that he wasn't going to get rid of her quickly.

"So, I take it you're not okay then? Well, is there-?"

"No! That's another thing you keep doing, asking if you can help. Well, you can't, honestly, trust me," he cried.

"Sometimes it can help to talk about it."

Draco didn't respond. She inferred that that was also a definite no.

"You were right, you know. I'll admit it. At first I didn't want to, was even afraid to but I'm not anymore. Heck, I was afraid of you back in September but so much is different now, I guess," she began after a minute had passed.

"What are you talking about, Edwards?" he asked even more confused than when she had taken a seat beside him.

"About Harry, Ron and Hermione," she continued, "they're not my friends. You were right to say that I look out of place amongst them."

"Oh, well, I'm sorry about that," he retorted.

"Sorry?" she questioned him.

He shrugged and answered: "Yeah that Potter doesn't see that you would be a good friend to have. I don't know why you want to be friends with the 'chosen one,' anyway."

"You think I would be a good friend to have?"

"Well, you clearly care about people; I wish you would care about someone else, mind you because I can categorically say that I do not want your help."

"Right," she said. Frances was now looking directly at him. She noticed how pale and thin he was looking but she also found there to be something attractive about his face; the way he only smiled with the edges of his mouth and the way his grey eyes moved slowly and lingered on everything he set them on. She was starting to feel at ease around him when he suddenly shifted and it made her jump, proving that she still had to overcome her fear of him. At the same time, he was taking in her figure. She was quite tall, taller than most girls at their school and slim too but deficient in the chest area. She didn't wear much make-up but this allowed him to examine her smooth although not unblemished skin. Draco was finding himself attracted to her again.

"Have you done the potions homework?" Frances asked, attempting to keep the conversation going. Draco Malfoy snorted and shook his head.

"No, I have better things to be spending my time doing," he said justifying why he hadn't done it.

"What? Like spending yesterday in detention?" she challenged him, "For not doing your transfiguration homework."

Draco smirked for a moment before looking grave again. "No, other things, actually. And how did you know that?"

"McGonagall told us yesterday when..."

"When what?" he pursued.

"When...when...when, well, Harry thought you might have had something to do with..." she proceeded cautiously.

"WHAT?" Draco Malfoy reacted, "Eurgh, I wish Potter would stop trying to figure everything out. He's not an auror yet, if he'll ever be."

"Well, were you...?"

"No, no I wasn't, alright?" he replied and they stayed in each others' company for a few more minutes. Frances hadn't been convinced by his answer and how she was wondering whether Harry was actually right. Still, he _had_ been in detention. At the same time, Draco hated himself for not providing a more believable refutation of Potter's accusation. If he protested any further to her then it would be obvious that he had something to hide but equally leaving it there could be fatal.

As he watched her get up and walk away off to the Great Hall for breakfast, he thought about how he could possibly use the fact that she was close enough to Potter to know things but not close enough to be completely loyal. _Besides_, he thought, _she's not __bad__ company._

...

The thought of using Frances for his mission was growing on Draco. The more he considered it, the more viable a solution it sounded to him. If he could know what Potter and the rest were thinking and what they knew about him already, he could figure out when it was best to work on the vanishing cabinet. He even wondered if he could hear secrets about the Order. Draco Malfoy was just pondering over this when Theodore Nott approached him in the Common Room. It was a busy evening but Draco had been sat all alone. Fortunately for him, Pansy was in detention and Blaise was at a Slug Club meeting.

"I know it was you," Nott said to him, sitting next to him. Draco looked around, worried that somebody might hear them but it didn't seem to him as though anybody had.

"Would you keep your voice down," he hissed in reply.

"So it's true then?" Nott asked, "I know you're one of them, Father told me about it."

Draco didn't reply this time but just grunted in response.

"What's it like?" Nott persisted in his questioning.

"What do you think?"

"Are you proud to have it?"

"Of course I am," Draco lied. Sure, he had been happy to receive his mark and be like his father when he first received it but to be proud of it now was untrue. He just wished it had happened to anyone but him. The mission had not been going well. It was nearly the end of October and he hadn't been able to get the cabinet working and so he had made the risky decision to try and kill the headmaster through a cursed necklace. _If Nott knows and Edwards was asking me earlier_, he thought to himself, _who else is going to guess_. Draco wished he could admit it to Theodore whom he had known since he was a child but he knew that he couldn't trust him to keep it a secret; his father was also a death eater and if other death eaters, or God forbid, Voldemort himself found out about how badly his task was going, his life and his mother's life would be made so much worse than they already are.

"Just do me a favour," Draco said addressing his friend, "keep your mouth shut about anything you _think_ you know, okay?" And with that he left the Common Room for the dormitories.

...

When Draco was sat at breakfast the next morning, he knew that at some point that day he would come into contact with Frances. They had Transfiguration last thing of the day but he suspected that they may come across each other sooner than that. He had spent that night in bed thinking over what he would say and do in order to get information out of her. Being the good Gryffindor that she was, he knew that she respond well to an act of sadness and this was going to be his start.

As it turned out, he didn't get to see her all day and even in Transfiguration they were unable to speak. Therefore, his only opportunity was after dinner on the second corridor. She was walking just in front of him so he sped up and passed her. From here, he slowed down and sighed loudly, taking a quick glance in his direction to see if she had noticed him. She hadn't. She was looking straight ahead. In order to grab attention he manoeuvred himself slightly closer to her so that he could nudge her arm and make it look like an accident.

"Hey!" she cried, looking around. When she saw who it was, Frances decided to say nothing more. They continued down the corridor until Draco to a stopped and leant against a pillar. When she saw that he had dropped off, she stopped too and looked back at him. He had his back to the wall and had his head down with arms folded.

"Why are you standing there?" she asked. He shrugged.

"Are you sulking about something?"

"If you call getting bad grades sulking then I guess. It's alright for you, you don't get bad grades," he replied.

"And neither do you. Since when did Draco Malfoy get beat up over what can only be one bad result?"

"More than that," he retorted, "I've been in detention every night this week."

"That's your fault for not doing your homework." Frances had nothing better to be doing that evening and since she was slightly gullible although not foolish, she would stand with him and hear what he was about to say.

"You don't know what it's like," he insisted. The corridor was clearing now so that only the odd person passed them by. "I have a lot of pressure on me; my parents are counting on me to succeed."

"Look, Malfoy," she said to him, holding her books in her arm. "I know this isn't any of my business but maybe you should speak to a teacher or even Dumbledore."

"I can't," he whispered.

"Why not?"

"Because they won't understand." Suddenly Draco was beginning to wonder whether he was still talking about school work and Frances was becoming sceptical too. She took a step closer to him and looked into his deep, grey eyes.

"Why are you talking to me about this?" she asked him slowly.

"Because you seem like you would listen." Draco cursed himself for having such a poor excuse and sounding so ridiculous.

"I thought you didn't like me. I thought you wished I didn't want to help you and that I would leave you alone," she challenged him. He shrugged again.

"Do you know how sexy you look when you pull that serious face?" he asked her. If there was one thing Draco knew how to do, it was to charm. Frances coloured and looked away embarrassed.

"Maybe, maybe I could help you with something you're finding difficult?" she proposed, trying to revert back to the original conversation.

"What, be tutored by a Gryffindor?" he said pulling a face. He knew he would have to make this believable by seeming reluctant at first.

"I get it. Whatever, see you," Frances said as she begun to turn away. She didn't really want to have to spend hours tutoring Malfoy, she didn't know why she had offered to do so. But, to her dismay, Malfoy retracted his negative answer and said he would be interested.

By the time Frances had made it back to the Gryffindor Common Room, she had agreed to meet with Draco three times a week in the library to tutor him in Transfiguration and Arithmancy, two subjects in which she excelled. Her own abilities in their other subjects were not so excellent and therefore she refused to take on the responsibility of tutoring him in them. As previously mentioned, Frances may have been gullible but she was not foolish. She sensed that there was more to these meetings than studying but she couldn't work it out and her curiosity was getting the better of her. With very little excitement to be found in the tightly controlled castle this year, Frances was out to find her own entertainment.


End file.
